Just Say It
by elsbian
Summary: Huddy one-shot. Spoilers for 'Joy'. House goes to Cuddy's house to comfort her, but let's face it, he's bound to screw it up. Rated M for language. Please R&R.


**Ok, this is a Huddy one-shot based in season 5. It's my alternate version of Joy. I read it through several times and added more detail, so hopefully it's good. Please...**

**REVIEW ;D**

**Also, quick note, I'm English, ok? There are some spelling differences between English and American words, so unless it is an obvious typo, please don't bother pointing it out :)**

**Elliot. x**

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With a sigh you stand up and fetch your bike keys from the edge of the table, wishing that you had more sense than to leave your house and effectively destroy your last defences from her attacks.

You retrieve your jacket from the back of the sofa and slip it on before pulling open your door as fast as you can so you don't have time to change your mind. With another sigh you hear the door slam shut behind you as you step outside into the cold night. You picked up keys, but not your house keys. Good one.

You let out a frustrated groan and limp to your bike, fighting against the wind climb on. You swing your left leg over and grip hold of the handles, shifting your weight to a more comfortable position.

You twist the accelerator and rev the engine, listening to the wild growls of the bike as it roars into life.

With one final jerk of your wrist you speed off into the growing darkness of the night.

Streetlights flash past, illuminating your blurred surroundings as you travel as fast as you can towards your destination.

Car horns blare at you as you speed past the cars, overtaking them in a flash of orange. You smirk as people swear and shout at you as you zoom past with no helmet on.

Inside you know that you should be wearing a helmet but you don't care anymore, all you care about is getting to her house, because you also know that she's going to feel like shit and she'll need somebody with her, even if it is you.

You could get to her house with your eyes shut; you've been there so many times, whether it be to wake her up from her dreams for an unnecessary consult or to grab her ass, the reason doesn't matter, all that matters is you get to see her.

You approach the driveway that leads to her house and with one final twist you lean to the side and pull into the stony driveway.

You hear the crunch of the stones as the wheels drive over them. You turn the keys in the ignition and the engine goes silent, leaving only the sounds of the stones grinding against each other as you climb off the bike.

As you swing your left leg over the bike you peer in through her front window. She isn't there. You frown; she was usually there.

You walk slowly up to the front door, limping carefully up the stone steps. You reach out a frozen fist and hover it a mere inch away from the door. You can feel the tension building up inside of you. Why are you too scared to knock on the door? You've done it a thousand times before, why is this time so different? You know why. You just don't want to admit it.

With a sigh you knock on the door, instantly regretting leaving your house just to humiliate yourself.

You hear muffled footsteps approaching the door. You mentally try and stab the bloody butterflies that are flying around in your stomach, wishing they would just sod off. You don't want to feel like this; it's new and uncomfortable, you've never felt like this before.

You hear the locks unbolting as she sniffs from inside in the warmth of her house.

You try not to scream in frustration as time appears to speed up. You were at your house two minutes ago, how did you end up here? You look up as the door squeaks open and she stands there with tear streaked cheeks and puffy eyes.

She looks gorgeous, even when she's wearing a grey sweater and her hair is tied back messily. You stare down at the floor, trying to avoid having to look into her sad eyes.

"This really isn't the best time for gloating." She mumbles, attempting a weak smile. Her voice is throaty and hoarse from too much crying. She immediately doubles back on herself and walks away from the door, leaning against the wall. She looks shit, she really does, but she also looks sexy and beautiful, how does she do these things to you?

"There's more than one baby in the sea." You say, walking slowly into her house and trying to clear your head of all the dirty thoughts. "The world is full of teenage boys riding bareback." You add, looking up at her as the door shuts behind you. You attempt a more cheery approach, feeling slightly more relaxed than before but also knowing that somehow you need to stay the night here because you're thoughts are so fucked up that you managed to forget to pick up your keys.

She lets out a slight laugh at your comment, clearly amused at your naivety. "No, I'm done." She tries a smile and shakes her head, "I can't go through that again."

You can't believe that she's giving up, but inside you're almost pleased; you don't _want _to share her, you don't want her attention to be taken from you and given to some baby that isn't hers. "You're quitting, just like you quit IVF." You say, failing in your attempts to hold back your smug smile.

"Yeah, just like that." She answered, the fake smile never leaving her pink face. She obviously feels like shit, you know that, but some part of you can't help but feel happy that for once she isn't upset because of something you did.

"You just did it again." You smirk, pointing at her for a brief moment. She grins, you smile. You're glad you were the first one to make her smile, but again, there's that voice in your head saying '_you can do better, just say what you're thinking you dumbass_'. You go quiet, you know you should listen to the voice, you know you should say what you know is right, but it's difficult. You look down at the floor and prepare what you're going to say.

"It's too bad..." You mumble, still staring at the floor. You look up after a few moments, but you don't look at her, you look at the wall behind her, too afraid to make that eye contact. "You would have made a great mother."

You risk a glance at her face. Your heart sinks. She's not happy that you said it; she's pissed off. You weren't expecting that reaction. You were prepared for most reactions; a smile, tears, shock, but you were definitely not prepared for anger.

"You son of a bitch." She says, her voice barely above a whisper. You look up at her, shocked. Her whole face is masked in anger and you don't even know why. The last remains of her smile had disappeared and had been replaced by this burning fury that was directed at you, as usual. "When I was _getting_ a baby, you tell me I'd suck as a mother, but now that I've _lost_ the baby, you tell me that I'd be _great_ as mother!" Her voice is quiet, but it's a shout, it's definitely a shout. "Why do you DO that? Why do you need to negate everything?" She says, her voice remaining quiet but fierce.

You're stunned to silence. You have no answer. Why _do_ you do this to her? You never know what to say so you say that wrong thing. You came here to comfort her but instead you've ended up pissing her off.

You shake your head, "I don't know." You mumble, you voice barely audible.

You look into her eyes. They've softened, but the anger is still there, still bubbling inside them, but now they're masked with a different emotion, something you don't recognise. She probably knew you wouldn't have an answer to something like that. She knows you don't even understand yourself, but she doesn't know that you came here because you actually care about her, not to deliberately annoy her.

You suddenly realise that she's looking at you expectantly, you panic. This is what you want, but now she wants it too. There's only one thing you need to do now. You take a breath and lean in. Immediately she places her hand on your cheek and closes her eyes. You kiss her, your touch is soft but demanding, you know from experience that that is how she likes it.

You shut your eyes and wrap your arm around her back, pulling her deeper into your wave of passion, drowning her in it.

The silence in the room is only broken by the sounds of your kisses, the sounds of her breathing as she changes the angle of her head to taste more of you.

Her arm slides around your neck, making a sensual shock travel down your spine, making you desperate for more. This is why you know you have to stop.

You know she's thinking the same thing because she removes her arm from the back of your neck and stops kissing you. She stands on her toes, feeling your breath cool and heavy against her wet lips.

Slowly she moves down onto her heels. You open your eyes and look at her. She looks almost shocked. Why is she shocked? Ok, you kissed her, after spending years fighting and arguing you kissed her, but she kissed you back; she welcomed it. Not that she would have pushed you off. You know she's never quite managed to let go of you, because you've never managed to let go of her.

You don't know what to do. Most people would kiss her again. Some people would wait for her to kiss you. Anyone else would have chosen one of those options. But you're different; you always go for the stupid option, don't you?

"Goodnight." You mutter, turning around and heading for the door. You keep your head down, staring at the suddenly fascinating carpet beneath your feet.

She watches you. You can feel her eyes piercing into your back. The voices have jump started again. They're swirling around in your head, but they don't mean anything. There are too many of them, there are too many different thoughts and feelings coursing through your mind. '_Turn around you dumbass, she wants you too, she wants you to turn around and look at her._' With a deep breath you glance over your shoulder.

Her face is cloaked in sadness. It casts a shadow over your heart and makes you wish you'd just bloody kissed her again instead of being the total ass you are. You stop and turn around completely so you're body is facing her, but your head is still tilted down, staring at the floor.

"House..." She mumbles, shaking her head. You look up in confusion as a tear rolls down her cheek. She looks up, making the eye contact that makes you both feel uncomfortable but you can't stop. You stare at each other from across the dimly lit room before she speaks again. "Why did you kiss me?" She asks, pulling the hair tie out of her hair and tugging it around her wrist.

You don't want this, you just want her. With a shake of your head you answer. "I don't know."

She sighs and runs her fingers through her hair, brushing it out of her face. "Why don't you know? Do you just not want to tell me?" She mumbles, another tear trickling down her rosy cheek.

You panic. You do know. You do want to tell her. But you can't. '_You can!_' your mind whispers, tempting you with its simple plan, '_Just tell her you love her; tell her you want to help her through this_.' You fight with your mind, but you can't, you just can't say it. "I can't!" You shout, startling her. You frown and look at her. "Sorry, that wasn't directed to you..." You mutter. '_You make no sense_' an evil voice laughs in your head. She looks confused, of course she does, you just shouted at her for no reason and then said you weren't talking to her even though it would appear that she is the only other person in the house.

"Fine, don't tell me, I'll just go to bed and pretend this never happened." She says, wiping the tears from her face. She looks worse now. You're just brilliant, aren't you? You made her laugh, you made her pissed off, you kissed her, you made her cry and now you've made her wish you'd never come here in the first place. You dumbass.

"I'm sorry... I want to tell you, but-" You start, but you stop when she strides up to you with newly found purpose burning in her grey eyes.

"Tell me and you'll be glad you did, you just have to stop being an ass and take that bold move; tell me. If you don't tell me, you'll only end up going home alone wishing that you had told me." She says. She's telling the truth; you know it, she knows it. One option will make you happy, the other will make you feel like shit, so why is it so hard for you to just do the right thing?

"I swear, I want to tell you, but I can't... I'm trying though, I really am, but it's hard." You say, looking at her perfect face. She was shaking her head, obviously disappointed in you.

"How is it hard? You kissed me, there's a reason you kissed me, so just tell me." She shot at you, raising her voice. She's getting annoyed again, just tell her the truth you idiot, stop stalling.

You hang your head and look down at the floor again. You know she's pissed off with you, you know this was your last chance; you know that if you look back up again she'll be either crying or furious.

You hear a sob and slowly look up. She's turned around. She's walking away. '_She's walking away, dumbass! Do something before it's too late!_'

"I love you!" You cry out in desperation. She stops, thinking about it. You can tell that she's trying not to smile as she turns around, hell, YOU'RE trying not to smile; you did it, eventually.

"Say it again." She commands, her hands resting on her perfect hips. She's staring you down, daring you to stay silent. There's no turning back now. You've said it once, now say it again.

"I love you." You say, quieter this time. She smiles, pleased with herself for breaking down your defences.

"I know you do." She says, turning back around and walking towards her bedroom.

You frown. She was supposed to say she loved you too, not walk away. "Why are you walking away? I told you I loved you, you're not supposed to leave me standing in your hallway."

She stops dead in her tracks and turns around, a smile spreading across her face. "You don't have to stay in the hall." She says before wandering over to her bedroom door and pushing it open.

With a deep breath and a smile you follow her in, definitely glad that you said it.

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**Thanks for reading, again, please review! Elliot. x**


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